My name is Maria Martin, née Hudson;
A neat little girl but quite a bit shy:
One Jonathan Martin came me a-wooing
And stole me away in the sweet bye and bye.
In the town of Boston, I was there a-lodging,
In the house of Jane Hindson, a shoemaker's wife;
It was in Boston Church, by God, in a jiffy,
Jonathan Martin made me his wife.
And if anyone doubts me, I charge them to know,
I've been loyal, committed and true;
To one who has forsaken me in his folly,
And faded away like the morning dew.
From Lincoln to York, we lodged with the Lawns,
Where he talked, sang and read, with never a frown;
Whilst planning to shake the soft beds of the clergy,
And see their great churches come rattling down.
In pursuit of this task, to bind me to silence,
He, a thief in the night, my wedding ring stole;
Grieved at his action, yet quietly forgiving;
Like a dutiful mistress confined to her role.
And all you who doubt me, I charge you to know,
I've been loyal, committed and true;
To one who does God's will with all of his might,
His own flesh and blood to butcher and hew.
In the race for his heart, I took second place;
In God's wake abandoned, both me and his child:
If a single rose can endure this cruel tempest,
In the Garden of Eden are weeds growing wild?
And if you must question me as to his doings,
What should I know and what should I say?
Whether he's guilty, of sound mind or mad;
He said, "God moves in a mysterious way”.
And all those who doubt me, I charge them to know,
I've been loyal, committed and true;
To one who claims God’s love beyond all measure,
As the altar of Abraham drips blood anew.
(Lyrics: Gary Miller / Tune: 'Easy and Slow’ - Trad. arr. Gary Miller)